


The Damned and the Dead.

by Vixenility



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: But it's a nice piece, Other, Raccoon City, Raccoon City Outbreak, i have no idea what this is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 23:08:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21957100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vixenility/pseuds/Vixenility
Summary: Raccoon City, 1998. A viral outbreak had crippled the entire city, its vile claws grasping the lives of the innocent and spreading the number of the infected. Danger is at an all time high.
Kudos: 3





	The Damned and the Dead.

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a short piece, an exercise about how I would describe the Raccoon City incident myself. Nothing too much. I know there's a novel already, but I decided to give it a shot. 
> 
> Most importantly, leave me feedback! I would love to know how to improve.
> 
> [Click here to see my twitter, I post about Resident Evil and even discuss the lore.](https://twitter.com/Vixenility)

The city decayed so fast, so abruptly, in such a vile manner. It was heartbreaking to see. The flames danced and engulfed the buildings, the history, the hard work; the crashed cars, the smashed lighting poles, the destroyed newspaper vendors all invoked that sensation that nothing will be the same again. Nearly everything was in flames, and the things that were not were destroyed. Especially because the newspaper vendor was stepped on by lethargic zombies, crawling monsters with flesh nearly bitten off, the crashed cars held the deceased inside clutched by the seat belt and the untenable heat engulfing the decomposing body--the living dead gathering around the vehicle to quench their never ending thirst for flesh and blood. A banquet awaited inside the car and the fire spreading to the car would cook the innocent to a crisp, along with the zombies. Ready to be eaten.

Were there survivors?

Somewhere down the street was the destroyed bus-stop that still had the zombie children roaming around, some feasting on the dead body of the bus-driver. From afar, a young teenager watched in awe a second too long. A ferocious bite to his arm made him yelp far too loud. The little kids noticed, and the dead bus-driver soon rose up as well. Another bite to the young man’s ankle and he was done for. The monsters (or whatever they were) were slow, but in that fatal moment, in the blink of an eye, they were too close.

The hospital, a sacred place, now crawling with the undead, with the unborn, with the innocent and the janitor all in the same fate. Even the experienced doctors succumbed to this viral outbreak, without an ounce of knowledge of how to stop it and how to save themselves. One survivor, a dashing young doctor, sat in the office with an open wound on his shoulder. His skin the color of coldness, pale like the moon, and his spirits down. Outside the office door banged and groaned those… things, clamoring to enter. Right above him, in the darkness of the ceiling, hid a stronger creature whose drool was about to drip on the man’s head. He wasn’t paying attention, he just slowly slipped. His eyes closed, his body slumped, and the monster’s long and strong tongue attacked.

The kindergarten was a sight far too sorrowful for any of the living, the innocent children who were only starting to live, the playground now somber looking with the crawling mini monsters. The scared young teacher hid amongst the darkness and prayed for anything to come save her. She too was bitten, in her ankles. The tears in her eyes were not of fear but lamenting, as her precious children were all roaming without aim like bums waltz the street looking for shelter. These kids had a future, they wanted to grow up to be doctors, firefighters, astronauts, writers, singers… They wanted to be something more than this, they wanted to live. The woman succumbed to her emotions, to the exhaustion in her body and stayed in her shelter, letting the wound take over her body. If this was her time to go, so be it. A few moments later, she had perished like the rest.

A mother watched her husband and her father clumsily bump into each other as they feasted on their family members. Her daughter, foolishly tries to talk them out of it, push them away from eating her big sister. The mother yelps. And that is the end of the two of them.

Life, as we know it, no longer existed in Raccoon City.

The smoke travelled up the heavens, the buildings remained intact with the occasional zombie tripping out the window to join the mob of its brethrens marching down the catastrophic streets. The symphony for the night was the constant moans and groans of pain, the hum of death, from the infected. Brainless, lifeless, but with an odd primitive instinct to search for food no matter what, a hostility unexplained. No one knew much about anything, naturally, except the culprits responsible for this, but even they perished under their own pressure. The innocents did not die and perish in peace, and neither will the lab coat scientist of Umbrella who worked so carelessly. But there was also that slim chance, that benefit of the doubt, where one may think they did not have a choice or even know.

Out in the streets there was too much happening at once, yet not a single word was whispered or uttered anymore. The cacophony of noises were not from humans. No survivors. It was almost incredible to think that there were no survivors in a city so vibrant and big as Raccoon City. Or maybe there are?

The wave of melancholy caressed every inch of Claire Redfield’s frightened body, helplessness threatening to take over and consume her every thought and emotion. The only survivor she knows of is Leon, whom she just got separated from. She refused to stay frozen, there was no way she could stay frozen. The rain drops washed the sweating from her, made everything uncomfortably damp, but that would not stop her. She had to fight back, find her brother and get answers. Was he alive? Was he… infected, too? She could not even dare to think of it, it would make her uncontrollable, it would cloud her every thought. Her determination to find him was far greater than fear, almost like an inhuman instinct, animal, that made her stomp forward firmly and smartly. Her aim was clear: to the police station. She needed to find Chris.

Leon S. Kennedy felt something different, processing the situation on the other side of the wall of fire that separated him from the determined survivor. A sense of urgency that made him want to move, to find answers and a way out, to rescue those who remained strong and human. The fire around him, the chaos, made him feel like he had to do whatever he could to keep the citizens safe. There HAD to be survivors, they could not all be doomed. But given the hostility of the infected, Leon understood it could be difficult, especially to those who were unarmed. He ran forth, swiftly passing by with a long distance between the monsters--no, they were not monsters, but unlucky humans--as they stretched their arms longingly, as if trying to grasp their life back, to beg for help. Despite the fear, the confusion and the adrenaline pumping, Leon wanted to be able to help so badly.

But alas, chaos had befallen upon Raccoon City. And the nightmare had only started.


End file.
